


Umbrellas

by Nny



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-20
Updated: 2011-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nny/pseuds/Nny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Remus' life, he had once decided, could be separated neatly into stages by his relationship with umbrellas.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Umbrellas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [setissma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/setissma/gifts).



> Written as a gift a long time ago. :)

Remus' life, he had once decided, could be separated neatly into stages by his relationship with umbrellas.

When he was young he'd always had umbrellas. Umbrellas and Wellington boots, and running around in drifts of wet leaves and leaping in puddles and the fondly exasperated look on his mother's face when he'd come in dripping and red-faced. He'd had umbrellas, but he'd never really used them, because if you had a bath to go back to then what did it matter? Most of the kids he knew thought he was pretty odd for liking baths, but most of the kids he knew thought he was pretty odd regardless. Getting cold and dirty was only fun if it was limited.

Summer was too hot and winter was too cold and spring… spring was the time of nightmares. Of a snarl in the dark and a high shriek that was barely recognisable as his voice and the look on his father's face when he'd been told 'werewolf'. He hadn't known, back then, that it was a dirty word.

So he'd always liked autumn, best.

Sirius liked the winter. He liked snowball fights and cold hands shoved down the collar of someone else's shirt and huge fires in the common room. He liked the way snowflakes looked against his dark hair, and the fact that no one ever knew that he was wearing Remus' school scarf because one is very much like another. (Remus switched them, once. Just to see if it was that important, to see if Sirius even noticed. The next day he had not only switched them back, but stolen Remus' favourite socks, too. Remus accepted the loss with equanimity.) Sirius liked being gallant and offering his arm to young ladies in the snow, looking back and smirking at Remus, who would pretend he was absorbed by the window of Flourish and Blotts'. But those were all only a part of the reason. The other part was that autumn and spring meant umbrellas, and summer meant deck chairs. And umbrellas and deck chairs were two things that Sirius had _never_ been able to get the hang of.

As soon as they were seventeen, as soon as they were legal, Sirius enchanted everything he wore with rain-repelling charms, and everything Remus had, too. He said it was because umbrellas were impractical on a motorbike, and Remus wanted to come riding, right?

Remus didn't want to come riding. Remus was infinitely fonder of apparation, or even Floo powder – there'd been a reason he'd never been on the Quidditch team. But that wasn't something you could say to Sirius, not when he was trying so hard to conceal the hopeful look and wearing that ridiculous leather jacket, so Remus had gripped tightly with his knees and closed his eyes and replayed Sirius' altercations with umbrellas, in his head.

Remus missed the umbrellas.

There was something to be said, though, for two hoods touching, and a warm cocoon that the rain couldn't penetrate, and the way someone's face looks when they're that close to you. Not even a face, any more. Just familiar shapes and blue eyes. Sirius never understood when he leaned away and just looked. He said it was wasting time.

But it meant that he could remember better, now. Now he had no point of reference. Pictures weren't the same.

And then there had been umbrellas again. Twelve years. Umbrellas and dark grey streets, and the realisation that for these people umbrellas weren't a choice. And the knowledge that before a rain-repelling charm had been created, wizards had probably just got wet. There was a lot to be said for Muggles.

And now. Now he could do a simple _Impervio_. It would take a moment. But he's not sure he wants to re-integrate himself quite that much. Because it could only ever be temporary, until the next person with a prejudice, and because he only came back for one person. He only came back for hooded robes and a lined face that was almost unfamiliar but this close, this close it was the eyes that stood out, and the eyes he knew. And Sirius let him take his time to look. He only came back for Sirius, and Sirius was gone.

So Remus carries a battered black umbrella. Sometimes he just uses it as a makeshift stick. Sometimes he allows the rain to fall.


End file.
